


A Bit Half Baked

by abeac



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: Bad Cooking, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29297070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeac/pseuds/abeac
Summary: Drabbles of Bryce attempting (and failing) to improve his cooking skills.
Relationships: Bryce Lahela/Main Character (Open Heart)
Kudos: 5





	1. Bryce Goes Grocery Shopping

Bryce’s ears quirked at the sweet sound of her soft laughter and his frustration morphed into equal parts embarrassment and endearment. 

“Can you repeat the question? I hope I didn’t hear you right.” She managed to splutter through her laughter. Bryce could envision her sweet smile and twinkling eyes as he listened to her, she was clearly amused.

“Where do I find leeches?” He repeated. He’d spent nearly an hour scouring the aisles of their local grocery store unable to find leeches. Usually, she did the grocery shopping given that she was the only one who knew how to turn on their stove.

“Babe, the list says leeks. I want you to pick up leeks.” She guffawed again. Bryce’s face flushed slightly and he felt himself cringe at his foolishness. “They’re in the produce section, right beside the peppers.”

“Thanks, babe. I’ll be home soon.” He muttered before ending the brief phone call and silencing her continuing chuckles.


	2. Bryce Tries Cooking

“I present to you, Bryce’s Mouthwatering Chili.” Bryce beams proudly as he sets a plate in front of his girlfriend. She gives him an uncertain look but picks up her cutlery and takes a cautious spoonful of the stew.

The moment she swallows the mouthful she splutters and her face turns to a ruby shade. She quickly stands, rushes to the nearby pantry and spoons a teaspoon of sugar onto her tongue.

“Not quite the reaction I was expecting.” Bryce drawls dubiously as he watches her anxiously. “Why are you crying? Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it?” He rushes disappointedly. 

“Oh no, babe. I’m crying because I love it.” She croaked. “Say, how much cayenne pepper did you put in it?” She asked, already quite sure the answer was way too much.

“Three tablespoons, that’s what the recipe called for.” He responded, his proud smile returning onto his features.

“Babe, the recipe called for three teaspoons.” 

“What’s the difference?” 

"That's like saying lupus and fibromyalgia are the same." She countered gobsmacked.

"I'm afraid to ask, but what's the difference?" He replied with a mischievous grin.

"I forgot you're a scalpel jockey." She quipped cheekily with a subtle eye roll.


	3. Bryce Tries Cooking...Again

Bryce continues cutting the array of fruit after flipping the bacon and whisking the eggs. He’d woken up earlier than normal to prepare breakfast for his girlfriend. She’d worked a full shift yesterday plus an additional eight hours of overtime, she’d barely been able to stumble into their apartment at midnight.

Unbeknownst to Bryce, the bacon had begun smoking as he chopped strawberries while humming lyrics to a new song she’d forced him to listen to. 

A small grin overtook his face as he remembered the two of them scream-singing the song one night while dancing around their living room. Their impromptu jam session had elicited numerous bangs from their neighbours and countless dirty looks the following morning as the two sheepishly made their way to work. Bryce felt guilty about it, but they’d spent three days working opposite shifts and had been far too excited to see one another to even notice it was nearing midnight.

Suddenly, the ear-shattering ringing interrupted his thought and panic momentarily consumed him. He was no expert cook and his mind raced as he noticed the charred bacon and smoking pan. Cautiously, he reached for the pan’s handle, removed it from the stovetop and rushed the pan to their balcony to air out. 

“Is there a specific reason why you always wear your apron naked while cooking?” a familiar voice said from behind him. He jumped slightly at the startlement but quickly replaced the surprise on his face with a sheepish grin.

“I never need a reason to get naked in front of you.” He winked.

“I won’t argue with that.” She smirked, quirking her eyebrow playfully. “But, babe, you’re also standing on our balcony where the entire block can see you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> I haven't written in over five years so I know I require some practice but I hope you enjoyed this!  
> xx


End file.
